An inescapable nightmare

when will this end?

Tonight, NHK featured a special documentary about the life of a Filipino girl, who at a young age of 12, was heavily laden with domestic responsibilities of caring and providing food for her sick mother Nora and two younger brothers, Ambo and Armando. The dramatic story started with Manika rushing to the mountain of garbage to scavenge, battle and squabble with older and stronger men and women, exerting all the energy she has left of her frail arms and tiny frame. She had to be tough and clever or else, their daily meal of porridge and salt will be reduced to a glass of water. The Japanese host shed a bucketful of tears when Manika, in spite of her being buried in a dismal situation, showed too much longing to be in school, reading refuse english books during her self-declared break from scavenging or before sleeping when her body almost gave up from hauling ten kilos of junk.

It was a truly heartbreaking story with all the Japanese audience crying, running out of words to express their disbelief as they watched Nora give away Armando to a neighbor so that the he could be fed everyday. The family lived in a shanty, no toilet, no electricity, no nothing. They were the poorest among the urban poor in Manila. But if there was one thing that I could positively tell about the family, it would be the sparkle in Manika, Ambo and Armando's eyes when they had small, free pleasures like a thought of eating hotdogs or a hug from their mother. They still had hope, love and caring in the middle of the bleak situation.

The documentary was an accurate representation of the current economic and social predicament that the Philippines is in to. The number of poor people swells every year and the price of food and services steadily increase. The rich become richer and the poor are pushed further into the bottom. The government on the other hand, is still plagued with devils and scoundrels who suck the very blood that should have fed and educated our children like Manika, Ambo and Armando. I wonder where these corrupt officials keep their conscience or whether they could sleep peacefully at night.

I am sorry, Manika. I cried when you slept without eating, or when your heavy trade fell from your tired arms. But do not worry for you have nothing to answer to God. Our country was great once but our fathers in the government whom we trusted even before we were born have thrown everything away, failed us and willingly pushed us into the pit of poverty and hardship. They have more to answer to God and to the people. I just hope that the Philippines will see the light again during our lifetime.

Goodbye Gian, our little angel.

My little nephew Gian, the son of my first cousin Noreen, passed away yesterday. He was two years old. I was shocked and deeply sorrowed by his passing. I last saw him on Christmas day last year when I gave him his present. He was jolly and smart, running all over the house, seemingly excited that it was Christmas day. Sadly, it was his last.

The whole family is grieving but we have to let him go.

Goodbye Gian, spread your wings little angel. Go home to Jesus and rest on His loving arms where there is no pain and suffering. We love you and we will surely miss you. Goodnight.

photo credit

The month of May

May, Mayo, Mai, Go-getsu - this month brings a lot of happy childhood memories to me and I guess to a lot of Filipinos too. May is the peak of summer vacation in the Philippines. During this scorching month, every kid in my little hometown is out somewhere playing in the rice field, along the beach or in the mountainside with all of his close friends. Everybody is loud and happy, braving the torrid summer sun, telling tall tales about fictitious characters like dwarves, elves or witches while hiking and munching those ripe guavas freshly picked along the way.

Since it was vacation, my parents would send me to my Lola's (grandmother) place. I'd be very excited to see her and to hear her stories about ghosts, magic, fairies and her experiences during the war. At night when the moon is rotund, my cousins and I would organize a ghost hunting trip, play "taguan" (hide and seek) or just tell stories under a big mango tree. We would scare each other until we run frantically, laughing and teasing each other. We also built straw huts where we would cook rootcrops or fish from the nearby pond. In the afternoon, our Lola would bring us to the church for the "Flores de Mayo" prayer that she organized every year. Of course we went! The snack was delicious - banana-que, bilo-bilo, halo-halo, ice-scramble or pansit.

During this month too, my aunts and uncles in Manila would invite me to come over and spend my vacation with my cousins there. I always loved to travel by ship. I wouldn't sleep during to entire 12-hour trip and just go around to see my friends, or gaze upon the stars or the sea, wondering what was deep beneath its blue waters.

I miss being a kid but I had a happy childhood so no regrets at all. If all of us would be kids at heart - happy, forgiving and honest, this world would be a better place.